Page 9 of Brutal Obsession

The bastard knew we were coming.

Un-fucking-believable.

Red-hot rage reignites in my veins. I refuse to let this mission be a total loss. Since we’re here, we may as well gather as much information about the De Lucas’ organization and further operations as possible.

Eyes locked on Enzo’s computer, I stalk over to his oversized, overcompensating mahogany desk and retrieve a USB drive from my pocket.

Between my fingers, I clasp one of Rory’s inventions. The device creates a backdoor entryway in the computer’s software long enough for a hacker to slip inside, steal any desired data, and get out. Once it’s in, Rory can do whatever he wants with this computer.

That’s my understanding, anyway. I’m not the tech expert of the bunch.

I insert the USB. The damn thing takes two whole minutes to initialize, which istwo yearsin a situation like this.

Annoyance overpowers me. I fucking hate waiting.

“Cian? Status?” Finn’s voice crackles over my radio.

I dig my fingers into the back of the leather chair sitting in front of the screen. “He’s not here.”

Finn curses. Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I close my eyes for a second.

Closing my eyes is a mistake, because Harper appears in the darkness.

Two minutes,she whispers. I hear her voice in every silence. In every crowd, I see her face. Harper Brennan haunts me and has since years ago, after that one night at the club.

While Harper was a teenager, I went out of my way to ignore her, because nothing good could come of lusting after one of the boss’s younger daughters. We live in separate wings of an enormous estate, so our paths don’t cross as often as people might think.

That all changed one night at the club when she was twenty. I was assigned to work security, and Harper was prepping a guy for her father. I never approved of how Thomas used her to distract men but offering my unsolicited opinion of my boss’s parenting would be a surefire way to earn a beatdown. Still, that evening, the job required me to focus on her, and what I encountered left me reeling.

Harper Dane Brennan. Perennial prom queen and flirt extraordinaire.

Vivid blue eyes. Golden blond waves tied up in a ponytail so pretty, I battled the urge to wrap the length around my hand and yank her to her knees. A short black dress showcasing a tight little body and perfect curves that I had no right to notice.

In the end, though, my attention wound up being a good thing. Since I watched her so closely, I noticed right away when that scumbag attacked.

Three years have passed since that night. Endless days I’ve spent lusting after her.

The fact that she’s been in Enzo’s clutches for two months, and we’ve failed to save her eats away at me, embittering me to my bones.

A series of beeps yanks me from my thoughts, alerting me that the USB is ready.

“Rory, it’s done. Get started.”

Irritation courses through me while I watch the cursor on the screen start moving through files and folders. What the fuck am I doing, waiting around for Rory to sift through this shit? I should be standing over Enzo’s corpse right now.

Instead, I’m standing in his office with my dick in my hand, trying to help Rory spot something,anything,that might contribute to our continued efforts to number Enzo’s days.

Rory flips through the security camera footage archives, including a folder that appears to contain all of Enzo’s torture sessions, and I lean closer for a better view. There’s not one blond beauty in the batch, but I do clock a video of Enzo and Finn from a few weeks ago.

When we rescued Finn that night, Enzo claimed responsibility for Harper’s disappearance, but a quick glance through his hard drive shows no sign of her. Hard to believe he could hide her from us this well, but that’s where we’re at. The fucker’s evaded all attempts to kill his sorry ass.

Abangblasts through my earpiece, chased by Darren’s voice. “Shit! Rory, I could use some assistance here.”

“Got you. Cian, keep digging,” Rory says, and then my head goes quiet for the moment.

I toggle to the next folder, and the machinepingswithout warning. My heart drops like a rock. It’s a message, a private relay.

I click, and the pop-up banner leads me to a secure location. None of the messages contain any text, just attached photographs. I open some of the older images.

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